


Bound Souls

by rilezra



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Protective Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Teen Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-07 05:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rilezra/pseuds/rilezra
Summary: Margaux "Mars" Katherine. A girl touched by the moon who holds the unadulterated belief of everything. Jack Frost. He turns darkness to light, wars into salvation, sadness into snow. A boy lifted from perdition, also by the moon. Two souls bound to each other, the fate of two beings intertwined. One cannot exist without the other.





	1. 0.1 ta ke n by t he sk y.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm revamping a story I wrote a long time ago on another platform, and I truly think this time it's going to be wonderful. I love this story so very much, and I can only hope you do, too. It's also on wattpad, so don't be alarmed if you see it floating around somewhere else. Both are from the original author. 
> 
> ALL rights to Rise of the Guardians, original movie plots, and characters from the franchise go directly to Dreamworks Animation; likewise for anything belonging to the famed Guardians of Childhood series. Rights for that and any content not created by me go to William Joyce. I only claim ownership of my writing directly, my original characters, and my own original plot. Please do not sue, I have white hair and blue eyes. I am not fit for a prison uniform. 
> 
> Set about 4 years after the events that took place in the movie.
> 
> -Ezra
> 
> P.S.: Margaux Katherine Hart. Pronounced "Marr-goh." Same way you pronounced Margo Roth Spiegelman from Paper Towns, only more French.

The wind blew harshly in the young girls face as she ran down the street. The girl, no older than 17, battled blinding February winds just North of Quebec City, Canada. Falling snow tangled with blonde locks mid-descent. Blue eyes glimmered from the passing streetlights, and pearly teeth worried on a peachy bottom lip. A pair of snow boots and a ripped dress shielded both girl and unborn child.

Her child. Her saving grace. Her only redemption. The only good thing to come out of her wretched, albeit short, life.

She didn't want to give up her baby, nor did she want to kill it. How could she when this was her destiny? She looked at this child as a gift, a chance to start a family and begin a new life earlier than expected.

The day she told her parents she wanted to keep the child was also the day they disowned her and threw her bags on the street.

This is when her sister, Stevie, a spritely nurse who already has a two-year-old boy stepped in and gave her support. Stevie was Rhiannon's only living relative that hadn't damned her to hell for having a child out of wedlock. The mother to be uprooted her life and moved from Sunny California to Northern Canada because it was what's best for her, and her child. Food, a place to stay, and a medical professional to look after her. Stevie cared for her, gave her love and affection when others simply closed their doors. Plus, how could she deny herself a proper winter?

Stevie was also very excited for the baby's arrival. She helped the girl, Rhiannon, set up a weekly midwifery session and the plans for everything; including the natural birth process and where the labor would take place. Their children would grow to be best friends, they had no doubts about that.

Too bad she was stationed as a first responder at a hospital three towns away.

So, here she was, going into labor with no hand to hold, no means of transport, all alone 30 miles away from the nearest hospital. It was winter, and snow crunched under her boot laden feet as she avoided the icy pavement next to her. She scrunched up as another contraction passed through her system.

Way up high, past the trees and the clouds, the man in the moon watched over the world, over the children. He focused on the mystery lady about to have the baby, and his heart sank. She was alone, in pain, and no one was there for her.

This lady, more like child, was about to go through one of the most important parts of her life, something that would change the way she lives forever, by herself.

The young mother felt a snap, and a scream bubbled from heaving lungs to escape chapped lips. Blood trickled down her thighs and began to pool on the soft grass below as she began to feel woozy. Something was very, very wrong.

Rhiannon's thoughts were a mess, but she felt a surge of warmth, and comfort that subdued her panic, her agony. The onlooking moon grew curious; he was not the one soothing the woman. Her heart grew as she felt her little girl kicking, a wave of relaxation surrounded her as she placed a hand on her baby bump. She screamed again as another wave of crimson gushed from between her legs. She held fast to the swell of her stomach as she gathered the strength to speak.

"I don't know what sort of higher power there is, but I'm desperate. So, to anyone who's listening, please save Margaux. I can feel that there's something unique, something special about her. I know that she has something great to offer to the world, and I know that there's something wrong. I want her to grow up, have a life, teach others about the wonders of the soul because that's what I always pictured my baby doing. Please, please save her. Save my Margaux. Save her. Save her. Save her..." She repeated like an incantation, hope seeping through her words with her voice, even in a situation like this, smooth as silk.

The moon suddenly released a bright light that was here and gone in a flash, making a strange ring noise as beautiful stars began to fall from the sky. The girl looked in wonder as she was surrounded by a sea of the bright balls of fire, blinding her with a mesmerizing light as the great Man in the Moon worked his magic.

The moon not only believed her but knew that there was more to this child than meets the eye. She was special, she was a soul to keep, she was to be something great. And at that moment, he decided who she would be. That moment, he tied the fate of two people together, destined to cross paths. Destined to be together. And the child, destined for greatness.

A whitewash settled over the young mother's usually tan skin. Her eyes opened and closed as the stars dissipated, revealing a beautiful, healthy child to be named Margaux Katherine. She was the spitting image of her mother, armed with a full head of honey blonde hair and silver eyes to boot. Along with a much more peculiar, but no less beautiful, pale patch of skin along her hairline connecting to white hairs that travel from forehead all the way to the top of her skull, crowning her and sealing her fate in the years to come. She was marked by the moon, no doubt, and everyone she meets will be made aware of it. The moon, and her destiny. Tears built in the mother's weak eyes as she held Margaux close to her chest.

"Thank you."

The moon felt the love this girl had for her daughter, enough to sacrifice her own life to keep her safe. And, he took advantage of that.

She sighed, an overwhelming feeling of serenity enveloped the girl as she began to shiver. The child's big eyes focused on her mother as the climate began to change. A warm, summer-like breeze blew through the unrelenting winter air and made the atmosphere more comfortable. Her mother smiled, looking fondly towards the sky. "I knew she was special." She whispered, stroking Margaux's few strands of hair.

She took her final breath, the last thing she registered being the face of her daughter. You could physically see her soul leave her body, traveling up through the sky, turning a shade of blue and making its way right up there, next to the moon.

Author's note: Okay, I'm doing this story again. It's kind of taking a stab in the dark, but I've developed so much as a person, and my personal edification should not be overlooked. I still adore Rise of the Guardians, and I think writing this would be really good for me and my artistic integrity. Plus, I need a good channel. I hope you like the newly improved story, and I hope you actually read it. I do think this is worth it. 

Thank you again, I really hope you enjoy the story as much as I am while writing it. Expect a playlist soon, because music is the sole driving force behind this project and all of my other endeavors. 

Love and Rockets,

-Ezra

Edit: that quip about Rhiannon not wanting to "kill her child" was not right wing rhetoric or pro-life propaganda. Rhiannon didn't like the idea of getting an abortion personally, that doesn't mean she nor I am against bodily autonomy and having a choice. It's your life, don't form an opinion based on fanfiction from a kids movie released six years ago. 

Another edit: I'd die if I were a conservative.


	2. update;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words on Guardians of Childhood, The End Becomes The Beginning, and Katherine.

Okay, chapter 1 is ready to be published. It took longer than anticipated and I also purposefully held off so I could read the latest of Bill Joyce's works, his fifth novel in the Guardians series, Jack Frost. I learned so much about my favorite fictional character, and I knew that I just had to roll with this new information I had been given. And, I had unknowingly set myself up for a big plot revelation when I made my OC and Jack's leading lady in this story, Margaux Katherine. That being said, I will not be including Mother Goose in this story entirely, but know something big is in the makes. I mean, think about it!

In this story, Jack has untapped potential to which Mars is the key. And, Mars has yet to become the person she was meant to be, and she can't do so without Jack. This story is my child, and I hope you enjoy what I am changing and creating and adding and removing. There is a method to my madness! 

Thank you to William Joyce for gifting the world with another piece to Jack's story, and I hope we do you justice. Also, please don't sue me, Bill. You will receive full credit for what you created that I used in this story. I follow you on Instagram and you wished me a happy birthday, so we're cool, right? 

Although the Katherine we know will not be in this story (for obvious romantic subplot purposes,) let's end this update with a quote from her. One that I found to be truly enchanting. 

“He turns darkness into light, wars into salvation, sadness into snow.” 

Love and Rockets,  
-Ezra


	3. 1.0 dre a ms u nw in d,

*Fifteen years later*

Mars rolled in her bed, the same mysterious dream waking her up.

It was early, around 3 am, and the other members of the household were still asleep. The old, dark house creaked as the snow fell noisily to the frozen ground below. The wind whistled as the Christmas lights dangling against blue painted walls swayed. She took gentle, almost cautious steps from her bedroom to the living room.

The blizzard morphed into a light winter flurry as she sat on the couch, her mind on autopilot as she reached for the coffee table. She grabbed a gray, plastic CD player with “Mars Katherine” scribbled crudely on the top in permanent ink. She checked to make sure her preferred musical selection was at the ready, before snapping it closed and pressing play while fitting a pair of headphones to her ears. Her pale eyes shut as she tried to occupy herself by focusing on the low tenor and high baritone voice that Steven Morrissey was famous for.

Though, try as she might, she couldn’t escape the images that invaded her thoughts. The same tall man, feathered-woman, seven-foot bunny, shapeless boy, and golden entity she had been dreaming about for weeks. They were something out of a fable, or what she’d expect to see in the morning on Cartoon Network. Something along the lines of Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends. And, she could spend days discussing the details behind each of them.

However, the boy (or, what she thinks is a boy,) was confusing, to say the least. She could clearly make out what the others looked like, as perplexing as they may be. Yet, he was a mere silhouette. A shadow. The features she could make out were only things a subconscious could notice. His willowy body, unkempt hair and the crooked staff he held in his right hand, something she heard a distant voice call Twiner. All secrets a shadow can divulge.

She set the Walkman on her abdomen, resting dainty hands over her face and kicking her feet up. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if these were just dreams, but they refuse to let her rest. She hadn’t slept soundly in over a month and a half, hence why she’s playing an outdated CD by The Smiths at 3 o’clock in the morning.

She yanked at her usually smooth hair, frustration fueling her movements as the CD player slid from her stomach and ‘clanged’ to the ground below. A moment of silence and about half a breath later, and a shout broke from the other room.

“Since when do you of all people have teenage angst that doesn’t sleep?” Dorian mocked. Even when bridging the gap between sleep and wake, he had the energy to pester her.

“Since you started shouting your angry internal dialogue at me.” She ripped away a stray thread from her blue sweater.

Fumbling was heard from behind a closed door before it scraped itself open, revealing the taller-than-necessary boy in question. Curly, brunette hair stuck out at odd angles as he attempted to yawn and scoff at the same time.

“I’d never expect you to be so spiteful. It’s entertaining, but out of character. I’d ask about what’s bugging you, but I think I’ve come to deserve some 3 am waffles. I woke up with the urge to find an excuse to say ‘leggo-my-Eggo.’” Margaux craned her head to look at his face. He shrugged past the couch on his way to the kitchen, ruffling the white part of her hair, right along her forehead.

Mars followed to watch as he got out two plates and put four waffles in the toaster oven. She suppressed a smile and lept up to grab at the peanut butter, her favorite, and the Nutella, his. “Where’s Stevie? Her car’s gone and it’s 3 am.”

Dorian shrugged, “Someone must be giving birth somewhere. She’ll probably text one of us when she thinks we’re more likely to be awake. As if I sleep.” Dorian grumbled towards the end of his answer. Mars nodded as Dorian ‘plopped’ their waffles onto their respective plates. Both cousin and cousin only used a knife to spread their preferred toppings and ate the waffles then with their hands.

“It’s senior ditch day tomorrow- or, well, today. And although you aren’t a senior, feel free to partake in our subterfuge and ditch, too.” Dorian spread Nutella on his waffles.

“But I’m not a senior. Wouldn’t Stevie be mad at me? Mad at you?” Mars deliberated, scrunching her nose.

“1: I don’t want to send you by yourself. Keeping you safe has proven itself to be quite the challenge, and defending your honor is hard,” he held a waffle in one hand and used his fingers to count with the other. “2: Mom wouldn’t care. I’m out, you’re out, everyone’s out. And, 3: I’m all about extending resources to the needy, and you can do whatever you want with your newfound liberation. Go nuts,” he finished his monologue through a mouthful and a wide gesture. Bits of dark hair he couldn’t tuck behind his ears fell into his eyes, but he was far too attached to cut it. Mars recalls him saying his goal is to look like Johnny Depp, ‘you know, before we knew he was a douche.’

“Are you going to hang out with Silas today?” Dorian paused when Mars asked. She ate the rest of her first waffle while he deliberated.

Silas Adams. Mars thought her to be a very cool person. They get along alright. She eats lunch with Mars and her friends, including Dorian, most days.

Silas and Dorian make a good couple when they’re actually a couple. He likes taking photos, she likes smiling for him. He likes reading poetry, she likes writing for him. They look great together, too. Of course, with big chocolatey eyes and woodland features like hers, she could look good with just about anyone. No less Margaux’s cousin and his charisma.

However, Silas has always preferred the grooves of a vinyl record over the grainy plastic of a cassette tape. ‘It’s an issue of authenticity,’ she says. ‘Music was literally made to be heard like this.’ And that’s why Mars thinks they have so many problems. She’s timeless, and Dorian has to slow down to be in her company. Judging by the grimace he chokes down with some more of his waffle, Margaux can only assume they’re off-again for the time being.

“No. I will be going out though, so if there’s anything you’re wanting to do you’ll have to either come with, get someone to pick you up, or spend the day indoors, wasting away.” Dorian gave a dramatic sigh for effect. Mars considered her options reluctantly. Not a single one of them sounded enticing, to say the least.

Dorian held up a finger. “And I don’t think I have to remind you that it cannot, will not, be that Alban kid picking you up. Not now, not ever.” Margaux thought his authoritativeness to be hilarious, but she refrained from telling him to his face. Not when he’s right, at least.

Margaux swallowed a yawn, “I was hoping, if the weather eased up, that I’d go for a short walk,” she admitted warily. She could sense the protest bubbling in his chest, yet she persisted. “It would be really short, and I’d wait for the sun to come out, I’d dress for an artic apocalypse and I’d run in the opposite direction if I come within 10 kilometers of him.” She defended her sharp words with an inherent timidity.

She wasn’t afraid of the boy she called her brother ‘for all intents and purposes.’ She’d never had a reason to be afraid. She was, however, aware of how dumb going on a walk through Red Willow Park in St. Albert was in the middle of December where the high was on average somewhere around -5° C. She was also aware of the fact that when Stevie is gone, Dorian is responsible for her well-being. Regardless of being older by only two years.

He sighed again, ever the drama queen. “Fine, whatever, it’s cool. But for the love of all things holy, go back to bed. You’re exhausted, and children need sleep.” Mars nodded but couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

“And you don’t?” She attempted to mock him, but it came out more curious than anything.

He waved her concern. “I, dear cousin, am sitting pretty at a healthy six-foot-two. I exercise and eat like a king. You, in a family full of giants, barely reach five feet tall on a good day, eat handfuls of sugary food at a time, and I’m pretty sure the only exercise you get comes from your boundless energy and inclination to bounce off the walls from said sugar.” He wasn’t wrong. She was smaller than her counterparts and the women in her family, but there was little correlation between that and her recent nightmares.

Margaux hopped down from the barstool. “I will go back to bed until the morning, but not because you told me to. I’m sleepy.” She grumbled, dragging her feet back to her bedroom and falling back into bed. She tucked her legs back into the duvet carefully, curling on her side and begging the powers that be for a dreamless sleep.

Dorian shook his head and shut her door for her. “Of course not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack will be here very, very soon! Be patient with me! I didn't want this first chapter to be 3,000 words! They'll get longer very quickly, though. I just had to establish her life a bit as well as her cousin, Dorian.


End file.
